And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
—
Sylvia Plath
I have been pondering lately the mess we call communication. I feel like my skill level is regressing greatly.
(via xlakdjfdlakjsdf)
(via xlakdjfdlakjsdf)
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